


The Difference Between Knowing and Acknowledging

by vuccijl



Category: Homeland
Genre: season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 15:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10282262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuccijl/pseuds/vuccijl
Summary: What if Carrie and Quinn's conversation in 4x08 didn't end with him suggesting they get some rest?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This follows Carrie and Quinn’s conversation in 4x08 Halfway to a Donut. I always felt like the scene at the end of the episode between them held so much potential and then Quinn just goes and says I think we need some rest. Ugh! Here’s how I would have liked it to go.
> 
> This is my first Carrie/Quinn fic so please let me know your thoughts! I’ve been wanting to write something for them for a while but I find it very difficult to accurately write their voices – hopefully I haven’t butchered who they are too terribly.

_Carrie: "How can saving someone's life be the wrong choice? But it was, because there are only wrong choices, and it's like I'm finally seeing it now for the first time. Nothing good can happen in this fucked-up world we've made for ourselves. Can it?"_

_Quinn: "We've been up for two days. I think... we could both use some rest."_

 

 

“You really think I’ll be able to sleep? You really think _you’ll_ be able to sleep?” She asked sarcastically with an eye roll.

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, his hands cupping his chin. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration, exhaustion, irritation – take your pick.

“Aren’t you the one that told me not so long ago that you didn’t believe in all of this anymore?” Carrie added when it was clear Quinn was not going to respond.

He nodded and met her gaze. He hadn’t slept in days and Carrie’s self-righteousness was the last thing he felt like dealing with at the moment. Of course, that didn’t matter much. Carrie wanted to have this conversation now and so she would.

“I did. And I think even more recently I told you I was done with the bullshit. That I wanted out.” He said, his tone was clipped and even though it wasn’t entirely fair to take his frustration out on her she was here and it was easy.

She leaned back and he could see the wheels spinning in her mind, like she was trying to find the right words. They stared at each other for a minute, neither speaking. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking and he hated when he couldn’t figure it out.

“Well, I’m starting to get it.” She finally responded and she sounded downright dejected. As tired as she was her eyes were still wide. “But I’m not sorry I convinced you to come back.”

He made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh but really nothing about this was funny. “Of course you’re not Carrie.”

“Go ahead, call me selfish,” She said with a shrug. “Maybe I am. But imagine the cluster fuck I’d be in if you weren’t here?”

He wanted to laugh again because this whole day, week, month had been a giant cluster fuck. He wouldn’t point out to her that if he hadn’t been here that Saul might very well be dead and who the fuck knows where she’d be at right now. He didn’t think he needed to point it out though – Carrie was selfish but she wasn’t stupid.

“Are you saying you don’t know what you’d do without me?” He said lightly, or as lightly as he could manage. He supposed he was joking. He felt resigned and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue with any kind of meaningful conversation.

Her mouth tilted upward at the corner. It was unusual for either of them to have a reason to smile so he felt somewhat smug knowing that he was able to put one on her face, even slightly.

“When did that happen?” She asked quietly, almost to herself. It didn’t require a response but he wanted an answer.

“What?”

“When did you become someone I couldn’t live without?” She repeated. She seemed thoughtful suddenly as if it had just hit her that he was someone that she really and truly needed. That maybe she’d taken advantage of him – as if he’d always just be there no matter what. He entered her life suddenly and certainly not by choice but once he was there he had never left – at least not for long – and she’d come to rely on him without even realizing it.

It’d been the same for him, but he’d been more cognizant. He couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment and he was sure that he was someone different to her than she was to him. While she might have needed him to center her, keep her on track, be her moral compass (go figure) he needed her to remind him that he actually was human. To remind him that he was able to actually _feel_ emotions – even if sometimes those emotions were closer to anger than love. Before Carrie, it’d been a long time since he had actually cared about someone, even himself. Peter Quinn did what Peter Quinn had to do to get the job done with no thought to anything or anyone else, his own life included. Somewhere over the last few years, and he’d never really thought about it this way before, his life had become easy to distinguish – life before Carrie and after Carrie.

“You don’t need me, Carrie.” He said his voice thick and raspy due to lack of sleep. It was a cop out, for sure. Yes, he’d come to terms with the fact that he had some sort of feelings for Carrie Mathison but there was a difference between knowing in the back of his mind and acknowledging out loud.

She stood up from her seat and moved around the coffee table that separated where she had been sitting on the couch and where he currently sat on the chair. She perched herself on the end of the table so only a few feet separated them. He was never one to avoid eye contact, neither of them were, so their eyes stayed locked.

“You have saved my ass so many times.” She said. “You stopped me from making the biggest mistake of my career the other day.”

He shrugged feigning nonchalance. “You wouldn’t have gone through with it.”

She cocked her head to the side as if to say, _‘you don’t really believe that_.’ “You came here when you didn’t want to. When you literally were half way out of the agency you came back because I asked you to.”

“You begged.” He deadpanned. “And who was I fucking kidding? If it wasn’t you then, it would have been something else eventually.”

“You saved me over Sandy.” She whispered quietly. They’d never had a conversation one-on-one about that day, not in detail at least.

“I don’t know why people keep fucking saying that,” He started, thinking back to his psych eval at Langley. He was getting frustrated and he didn’t know why.

“So it’s not true?” She asked.

He sighed and sat up straight so that he made sure she was listening to him. “At that moment, I did not deliberately save you over Sandy. Sandy dug his own fucking grave that day. Like we said, he never had a chance. But if you, or anyone for that matter, think that I would let you fucking die right in front of me than…well, fuck that.”

“I could keep going,” she said, choosing not to respond. “I have a list a mile long of things you’ve done for me, of times you’ve been there for me. Are you going to have an excuse for all of them?"

He narrowed his eyes, scoffing. “I didn’t realize you’d been keeping track.”

“I hadn’t been. Not really. I think I’m having an epiphany right now.” She said and she actually looked like she was. She looked like she was even more surprised than he was at the turn their conversation had taken.

“It’s probably the lack of sleep.” He shot back. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t accepting what she was saying. Mostly because he hated when she tried to make him believe he was a decent guy.

“Really, Quinn?” She said, annoyed. Her eyes narrowed before she continued. “I’m pouring my heart out here.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” He asked sarcastically. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“How about you tell me how you feel about me?” She suggested and he was beginning to think she really was having some sort of revelation because she seemed so calm. Carrie and calm didn’t usually go hand in hand especially not lately. He shook his head because he heard what she was saying but he didn’t know what it meant.

“Is that what you were doing? Telling me how you feel about me?” He asked. Because he’d heard that she needed him and she couldn’t live without him and that he’d saved her ass a couple of times but she probably felt the same way about her father for Christ’s sake.

“I’m being vulnerable here. Opening up. You could try to be less of a douche bag.” She said and he could tell she was trying to be her cool, confident self but she was starting to crack and he thought that maybe he had pushed too far.

He started to speak but paused before words came out. This whole conversation had caught him off guard and he didn’t like it when he felt blindsided. He was trained to be prepared for any possible situation and he was not prepared for this. They didn't teach this bullshit in the CIA.

“I’ve been scared very, very few times in my life,” He started slowly. He needed to make sure he was making himself perfectly clear. “But I was terrified when that car was surrounded and it’s not because Sandy was being pulled out of the car by a bunch of fucking lunatics or because I thought that _I_ was going to die.”

He stopped to let that sink in for both of them. She bit her lip as if she wanted to say something but understood his need to not be interrupted.

“I don’t have a clue when you came to be so important to me. Probably because you still drive me fucking crazy half the time and you have this insane ability to piss me off more than anyone not to mention we are way too fucking alike.” He took a deep breath before he continued. He had surpassed his daily word count but he couldn't stop now. “But…never in my life has anyone understood me like you do. And never in my life has there been anyone I was willing to open up to like this so that’s got to mean something, right?”

A small smile attempted to break through but she continued to chew on her bottom lip. Maybe more so out of nerves this time around than anything.

He glared at her and his heart pounded at her silence. “Stop fucking biting your lip like that and say something or I’ll come over there and bite it for you.”

She released her lip, her eyes went wide, and a breath swooshed up her chest and out her mouth. She went from wanting to jump up and hug him to wanting to sit on his lap and kiss the fuck out of him in less than five seconds flat.

“You should.”

His eyes went dark and if she didn’t know better she would actually be concerned with how he was practically glaring at her. She felt relief somewhere inside of her that Quinn was not confessing his undying love for her with sweet nothings and tender words. He got his point across while still being one hundred percent him. They didn’t need to be different people because they were sharing a monumental moment. How they felt about each other didn’t change who they were. They weren’t normal. They would never be normal and they would never live normal lives and realistically, they would never have a normal relationship. They felt the way they did about each other because they knew exactly who the other person was, flaws and all, obstacles and all.

After what seemed like an eternity Quinn stood up and walked the few feet to where Carrie sat on the coffee table. He leaned forward so his hands rested on the table at either side of her hips leaving just enough space so that they didn’t touch. She backed up slightly so that the back of her knees hugged the edge of the table and his face was right in front of hers. His gaze roamed over her, landing on her lips where she subconsciously (or maybe not) bit down.

He groaned and closed his eyes. He bent his head down slightly so that his chin hit his chest and she had a perfect view of the top of his head.

“What’s the problem, Quinn?” She asked just above a whisper. She wanted him to kiss her and she supposed she could just take matters into her own hands but she waired to see what he would do.

He lifted his head and she breathed in because she’d been close to him but never like this. Obviously she was a women and she had functioning eyes so she knew how absolutely beautiful he was but being this close was messing with her – all of her.

“I want to kiss you.” She had heard him speak hundreds of thousands of times but she was certain he had never spoken to her like this before. So desperately, so intensely, so _hotly_.

“I’ve never known you to be the type of guy that didn’t do what he wanted.” She said, always so smart. He smirked because he loved that even in this moment she could still find a way to grate on his nerves.

“You have no fucking idea.” And then he went for it, maybe just to shut her up and probably that was her play all along. He pressed his lips to hers, effectively silencing her. They were tentative at first but only for a second and then suddenly the dam broke and he realized that he was kissing her and she realized that it was him and all bets were off.

Quinn took the lead and lifted his right hand so that he gripped her hair at the back of her neck. He held the blonde strands tightly and balanced the rest of his weight on his left hand. Her hands reached out to grab his hips and her fingers pressed into the spot right where his shirt was tucked into his pants.

His lips were hot and demanding on hers. She pushed back because Carrie never could give up full control but he was uncompromising. He was neither slow nor forgiving. He kissed her hard, all tongue and teeth, almost as if he was punishing her for making him wait so God damn long to do this. He tightened his hold on her hair and if it had been anyone other than Carrie he would have wondered if he was hurting her. It was Carrie though and the tighter he gripped the deeper she pressed her fingers into his waist.

He was bent over her at an almost awkward angle which stopped them from doing what they wanted to. He couldn’t grab her leg and pull it upwards so that it wrapped around his body. She couldn’t coax him closer in order to feel the friction on the one part of her body that she needed it. After what felt like hours but was probably closer to a minute he pulled back with a final nip to her lip. He stood up straight now looking down at her where she attempted not to pant like an overheated dog. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks were red and he was certain he’d never seen anything hotter.

“Still tired?” She asked with a glint in her eye, trying to hide the fact that she was losing all composure. There had been so many times where he’d wanted to kiss a smug look right off her face and it pleased him to no end that maybe he could do that now.

“I’m fucking exhausted.” He answered, because he was but now he had another reason for not being able to sleep.

She stood up in front of him and not for the first time she thought about how she loved that he was so much taller than her. “Maybe you should go get some rest.”

His eyes narrowed at her and if he didn’t know her better than anyone he might have believed that she wanted him to leave.

He crossed his arms and looked at her, searching for something until he found what he was looking for. They’d talked enough for one night. Enough for a week to be honest. He was emotionally drained and physically spent. He was sure she had noticed the prominent bulge in his pants just as he’d noticed how her nipples had tightened. Instead of responding he let her have the last word and turned, but, instead of heading for the door he moved in the direction of her bedroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She said from behind him but he could hear the smile in her voice and so he kept on walking.

He had been so used to knowing what he felt for this women but not doing anything about it. He was finding it difficult to grasp what had just happened – what was about to happen. He heard her footsteps behind him as he entered the bedroom and realized he didn’t give a fuck what tomorrow would bring. Because he was sure that it would be more bullshit. But tonight, for once maybe he’d let himself enjoy the moment instead of waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop.

At least, he’d try.

* * *

 


End file.
